


Winter is the best Summer

by Merkey666



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8925829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkey666/pseuds/Merkey666
Summary: Drabble that doubles as a holiday au. Enjoy! (You can read this in correlation with the high school au or separately.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to post one fic a day on the days leading up to Christmas, but I've only got about half done. Hopefully I'll finish them on time. Anyway, here's part one!

The banter rang through the large room, all the way down the hallway, and even up the popcorn ceiling. There had been more of them earlier, but the night had gone on, and the little LED’s had begun to die. When the witching hour was at it’s peak, the majority of the slumber party had passed out against the hardwood floor. Out of everyone who actually brought a sleeping bag, only one person managed to hit his actual sack upon laying down. There were limbs everywhere, books and ripped out pages like leaves in autumn. The small lights had been taped to the ceiling, star placebo’s for their little camp out. The heater buzzed from the vent in the wall where Ryan was lying. That boy was always cold. 

From the springtime stars, to the fallen leaves, the summer sleepover, the winter-time heat blasting through the entire room, no one could recall what time of year it was. The only reminder anyone got was when they walked down the hall to the bathroom, passing the Christmas tree in the living room. Decked out in lights, the leftovers in Pete’s room, the tree was a shining star in a cave of darkness, without help from the streetlamp on the pavement out front. 

Gerard flipped a page, continuing Hell Boy’s current adventure and letting the inked words fill his ears, even though he was hearing nothing at all. Deep breaths of evergreen scented air, exhaled sighs letting out some carbon dioxide for the tree, soft snoring from the far corner, and even the whispers and laughter of those still awake didn’t phase him. Only the sounds of a battle, he could hear. 

“It’s like the summer all over again,” Pete smiled, tucking one of his hands behind his head and watching the stars on the ceiling. “Did you have a good summer?” 

“My summer wasn’t horrible. I prefer winter so much more, though. Everything about the season just makes me so happy,” Mikey replied, kicking off his blanket because there was no need for extra heat when the heater was still blasting warm air that smelled like dust set on fire. In a good way. 

“Yeah. I just wanna snort a Christmas tree.”

“Way to ruin the mood, Pete. Good job,” Joe mumbled from where he had collapsed with an eye mask an hour previously. Joe rolled over, waving Pete away, not allowing one word out of spite. Being awoken at god knows when was not something he, or anyone else, really, enjoyed. Gerard snapped his comic shut, having finished it. Everything he’d just absorbed needed some time to sink in before he could happily fall asleep, so he set it aside and scooted over to Ryan and buried himself in an abandoned blanket, leaning his weary head against the wall. Mikey watched his eyes close blissfully, and kept a close watch until his head finally rested on his shoulder, and he was out. 

Mikey knew Pete was watching him, and he didn’t really mind. It was something Pete had done over the summer when they’d watched the real stars together. That had been a good time for the both of them, and maybe Pete was almost as happy. School starting again was like falling off a high, and there was no drug in the world that could make any of them as happy as that summer had made them. Full of music, booze, laughter. Discovery, all sappy and grass stains. It made sense, and it faded into school. The freshman wouldn’t have noticed the changes, but from the ease in the air and the sounds of friendship, they all knew they were different. 

Something new had happened to Pete… He didn’t want to relive a good moment in his life, no take backs, no do-overs. It was perfect just the way it was, and it was never gonna be as good, but that Wednesday night was pretty damn good. 

“Want some eggnog?” Pete asked, pulling a sweater on. Mikey sighed and reached for his glasses. Once the blur cleared away, he could see each individual LED reflecting off the brown of Pete’s eyes. The candles on the coffee table flickered in Mikey’s glasses, like a morse code for him to follow. The already shining lights in Pete’s heart got a little brighter.

“I hate eggnog, Pete.”

“I know. But I want to be more festive. Come with me?” he asked, now pulling on his socks. Floor sliding ice-skating rounds had left holes in his socks and burns on his feet, but he wasn’t an exception. Mikey wiggled his toes which were left uncovered from his own ride, marked forever with the memories he was making. The two clambered up, holding onto each other, like the other would make them stable. It ended up about as well thought out as you could imagine. Clambering up and over the sleeping or wistful people on the ground, they slipped out the door.

Wrapping paper boxes left on the table, tape just about everywhere, including the floor, made for an adventure. Any time spent together made the heat rise in the room, even though the heat stayed the same temperature. Mikey sat himself down on the counter, watching the back of Pete’s head while he grabbed the eggnog container and took a sip right out of the bottle, keeping ferocious eye contact. Mikey spluttered out an awkward laugh, while he tapped Silver Bells on the marble counter top. Mikey’s little giggle made Pete smile and spill eggnog down his front, which caused a chain reaction. 

“Here, let me help you with that. Since you clearly can’t do edgy things correctly,” Mikey joked, grabbing a napkin and beckoning Pete closer. They weren’t more than five feet apart in the first part, space no issue for either of them. The container of eggnog got absentmindedly thrown in the sink, rendering the remainder of its contents useless. Mikey unfolded the napkin and tried to wipe the copious amounts of liquid off of his pajama top, but smearing wasn’t the best tactic to use. After a few minutes of making the dark stain grow, Pete gently pushed his hand away, giving him a mocking glare. 

“If you took your shirt off and just washed it, this would be so much easier,” Mikey said, dropping the napkin onto his lap in defeat. Pete didn’t need to be told twice. In an instant his shirt dropped to the floor, wet and sticky. Pete wasn’t insecure about his body, and had no problems taking off clothes if asked by anyone. 

“Hot,” Mikey joked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Pete snorted and punched him lightly in the shoulder. He was no Bruno Mars, so his pivot away was a little half-assed. Mikey was temporarily blinded by the bright lights of the fridge as Pete pulled out another bottle of something. 

“Don’t drink more. How many pajama tops are you gonna ruin?” Mikey asked, swinging his legs. Pete smirked over his shoulder as he poured two glasses of the liquid into cups and set them in the microwave. The little plate in the middle rated slowly and when it beeped, Pete was nearly hypnotized. The light flashed off and the door opened, filling the room with the essence of warm milk. Mikey smiled as Pete gave him a little look that was more shy than was normal for him. 

Mikey took a sip, “Better.” Pete beamed, hopping up next to him and leaning onto him lightly. Mikey settled down, both using each other as a wall and leaning close. Like earlier, the two picked up some random subject, dousing the environment in light conversation. Mikey shut his eyes, as he took another sip. His glasses fogged up from the puffs of steam, making them useless. He pulled them off entirely and listened to Pete rambles solely. His voice got softer as time passed and their glasses drained. Despite the sleep deprivation mixing with the soft Christmas music still flowing in from the living room, Pete’s jokes still ran on. Not to say they got any better. Finally, he lost any remaining filter he had and went right for it. 

“You know, we’re best friends but I’d fuck you if you asked.”

“What?” Mikey asked, trying not to spew milk out of his nose. His face was almost the color of the holly berries set decoratively on the table. He set his cup down and fumbled for his glasses. Mind racing as fast as it could, but his brain was still weighed down with Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas from the lounge. His glasses found their own way onto his nose, and surprisingly, Pete still looked dead serious, and a little tired. 

“What?” Pete asked, seemingly to himself. Mikey tried not to gape, not because he believed that was rude, but closer to because he was sure his breath was not appealing. 

“He said he’d fuck you if you asked,” said Gerard, neither had known he was in there with them. It it had been known, Pete couldn’t say for sure whether he still would’ve said it or not. Gerard let himself out, clearly not interested in their two am drama. The warmth of the comic had almost worn off and he was ten seconds from dropping, unconscious. The glow of the nightlight in the corner glowed continuously, and all of the sudden Pete found it very interesting, or, anything that was not Mikey’s face interested him. 

“I’m so glad Gerard left,” Mikey whispered, voice airy and jerky. Pete rolled his head on his shoulder slowly, until he finally returned Mikey’s look. Out of options, he relented. 

“Why?” He only managed to sound so confident. It was two am, a few days before Christmas, and it was though all of the weight of the season caught up with him. His voice shook, even as he breathed. 

“Because,” Mikey picked back up. “I wouldn’t want him to see this.”

And with that he leaned in. His lips, warm and soft, moved against Pete’s like he was speaking, but no sound came out. If Mikey could talk while he kissed, Pete guessed he probably would’ve said something about how much he hated eggnog. Instead of wasting time thinking about eggnog and Mikey’s dislike of eggnog, he went simpler. He thought about Mikey and touched his face gently, only two fingers, petting his cheek lightly. Pete spoke back, moving in sync with Mikey’s body, like there was some holiday telekinesis at work. Santa’s magic. 

Pete pushed forward a little, feeling Mikey’s lashes brush against his cheeks. His fingers reached up and pulled Mikey’s beanie down over his eyes, and the harmless kiss was broken by Mikey smiling too widely to continue. Before Mikey could completely revert to a normal sitting angle, Pete shot forward and kissed him one more time. 

There was smiling, blushing, and a little hand holding. So much had been said in the kiss there were no words to return to. There was so much something flying in the room, so it wasn’t long before Mikey put his head back down on Pete’s shoulder. That meant good things, Pete thought. Mikey finally emptied his glass and looked up at Pete. 

“See you in the morning?” Mikey asked, tapping the back of Pete’s hand to the tune of What A Year For A New Year. 

“It’s my house, I should be asking that,” Pete replied quietly, but not necessarily in a scared or cocky way. It was that time of night, closing in on three am, when an emotionless tone of voice was the only tone of voice. 

“You weren’t gonna ask.” 

“Ask what?” Pete smiled. Mikey shrugged, playing his game. Pete hopped off the counter, and darted down the hallway, footsteps barely existent. His socks slid here and there on his way. Mikey stood there, waiting. Pete always came back to him. He began to lean back against the counter, barely able to keep his eyes open. When they snapped back open again last minute, Pete was in front of him. Mikey smiled lazily, heart beating slowly and smoothly, like jazz. One hand raised into the air, holding a small plant just barely over Mikey’s head. Pete leaned in before any recognition could happen, and it sort of just happened. Mikey wrapped himself around Pete as It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas began. 

“Hey, Mikey,” Pete whispered in between kisses. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas, Pete.” 

~

Pete woke up late the next afternoon, the windows still dark with the snow that was falling outside his window pane. He was still warm, the heater was still purring, the candles were out, most people were still in the room, asleep. Most importantly, Mikey’s head was on his chest, purring the sweetest of all. Sweeter than Christmas cookies, sweeter than the perfume of his ex girlfriend. It occurred to him that getting up wouldn’t be an easy task, and he shut his eyes again instead of even trying. 

“It’s okay, I’ve been up for a while,” Mikey said, looking up with tired, doe-y eyes. Pete smiled and laughed, looking back up to the burnt out LED’s. 

“And if you intend to stay laying down, that’s fine, but I’m hungry.” Pete didn’t intend on getting up, so he rolled back over and watched Mikey walk out of the room quietly. Pete sighed, and pulled his blanket up and over his head, hiding his huge smile that only Mikey could bring on. He hadn’t smiled like that since the sun was out longer than the moon. Since summer.

Summer, when he properly fell in love with Mikey. 

~

The first thing Pete did when he walked out into the living room, where the music had been switched to the Nutcracker soundtrack was press a kiss onto the top of Mikey’s head. Mikey blushed and shoved a large pancake in his mouth to avoid being asked any questions. Joe made eye contact with Pete after being firmly rejected by Mikey, and Pete gave him a look that was just as emotionless as it had been at three am. 

“Merry Christmas, Pete,” Patrick said, throwing a plastic ornament at him, which Pete expertly caught. He nodded a thanks but returned to the real subject of his attention. He snuggled next to Mikey who leaned his head on his shoulder, and then pulled his blanket closer to himself. Sharing blankets wasn’t one of his specialities, and the living room’s coldness made it all feel so much realer than it should’ve. 

“Let’s watch something,” Pete suggested. “Something Christmassy.”

“That’s not a word, Pete.” Patrick rolled his eyes magnificently hard. 

“Whatever,” Pete mumbled, taking a pancake off of Mikey’s plate and shoving it into his mouth whole.

The snow fell harder outside, until it could be heard, slamming against the window panes and the blinds had to be shut. It was only natural to put on a movie and light a fire. As Brendon’s insistence, A Charlie Brown Christmas was put on, which Pete had no objections to. As the opening credits began to fade on screen and the music spilled out of the speakers, Mikey turned his head towards the Christmas tree, snuggling closer to Pete. Mikey watched the tree, Pete watched Mikey, and everyone else watched the movie. The sounds of the movie filled everyone’s ears and ebbed away at their hearts, even Gerard’s, who had a comic book in his hand when it started. When the plot began to stir, it was completely forgotten. Mikey’s head finally dropped onto the back of the couch and Pete’s onto his shoulder. Seven hours wasn’t enough sleep for two days before Christmas. 

Once Pete went down, no one else lasted long. Even those who went to bed at the first opportunity went out fast. There was only one set of eyes who watched the final set of credits roll off the screen, only one person who payed steady attention to the movie, only one person who was in the habit of thinking long and hard about things that mattered to him. Gerard looked over at the tree and eventually down to those nearest to it.

“Merry Christmas,” said Gerard as he watched his little brother smile in his sleep, curled up next to Pete. Gerard shut his eyes and leaned back on Frank peacefully.

It would be a very Merry Christmas.


End file.
